As An Eagle Flies (A House Arryn Quest)

Squires traditionally clean and maintain armor, regardless of position of birth. By god. So much blood, just blood everywhere. Inside and outside the armor, probably coating the horse in one giant rapidly drying scab. Just the cleanup is enough to cause PTSD.
We probably already have PTSD from killing a dozen people on the ground that Ser Gerold was making us kill.
 
We probably already have PTSD from killing a dozen people on the ground that Ser Gerold was making us kill.

Ehh...PTSD is too much of a stretch, nightmares or maybe even some slight trauma sure but not something as heavy as PTSD. And even that in my opinion is unlikely, Arstan lives in a society where the man is expected to kill or witness killing at a young age, especially as a Squire who is training to become Knight, whose main job sometimes is to wander around killing bandits and troublemakers. He already also has seen death at the Tourney so I don't think he'd be as affected even if he is the one doing the killing now.

If it was a SI from today's society then I could understand since times are different but not if it's a guy born and raised dreaming of being a Knight in a medieval setting when he knows a Knight is expected to kill people. Dunno..maybe it's just me that sees it that way but it does atleast make sense to me that is.
 
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Ehh...PTSD is too much a stretch, nightmares or maybe even some slight trauma sure but not something as heavy as PTSD. And even that in my opinion is unlikely, Arstan lives in a society where the man is expected to kill or witness killing at a young age, especially as a Squire whonis training to become Knights whose main job these days is to wander around killing bandits and troublemakers. He already also has seen death at the Tourney so Indont think he'd be as affected even if he is the one doing the killing now.

If it was a SI from today's society then I could understand since times are different but not if it's a guy born and raised dreaming of being a Knight when he knows a Knight is expected to kill people. Dunno..maybe it's just me that sees it that way but it does atleast make sense to me that is.
I should rephrase that.

We are terrified of Ser Gerold, on the battlefield, because he is quite literally a one man army and we are glad he is on our side.

Now with the bullshit you just saw... how the hell did ned and his crew kill him?
 
I should rephrase that.

We are terrified of Ser Gerold, on the battlefield, because he is quite literally a one man army and we are glad he is on our side.

Now with the bullshit you just saw... how the hell did ned and his crew kill him?

Good question, I would probaly say that at that point he didn't really want to fight and kill the Northmen since they were there to in their eyes rescue Neds sister. Gerold was old and tired of it all I suppose.

Edit: Also, i wonder now with Gerold being the BAMF that he is if Arthur really will be considered the best warrior there ever was xD
 
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Also, i wonder now with Gerold being the BAMF that he is if Arthur really will be considered the best warrior there ever was xD
Gerold was an old man by the time Roberts Rebellion started, he also got shot in the hand by the smiling knight's brotherhood, which according to Jaime, healed but not properly... old age also tends to slow people down because last I checked he was nearing his sixties, which is about the time most people start slowing down.

Edit: and I truly believe that THe Tower of Joy was Ned Stark at his best in terms of Swordsmanship, battered and bloodied on several battles, and having very recent experience in close quarters combat. Plus with his boys in tow, he also had the numbers advantage...

Although I still think Game of Thrones made him a better Swordsman, and one that is more... I don't know in line with what everyone else thought he was capable, not Ned's own opinion. Still, Sean Bean was excellent as Ned Stark and I don't care how many liberties that they took in Neds minor characteristics like swordplay.
 
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I'm hoping we are giving at least a brief last rite to each of them in addition to the misericorde.
Well... we weren't. Mostly because they are not members of the faith and Arstan was too... preoccupied with making sure Ser Gerold wasn't stabbed in the back by the survivors to really care.

As for the PTSD... I may have overplayed Arstan's mindset. He's more relieved that he's not dead than anything else.
 
I'm hoping we are giving at least a brief last rite to each of them in addition to the misericorde.

Why? These are mercenaries, pirates, slavers...literally the only kind of people unanimously hated by everyone in Westeros and parts of Essos. If they were some peasant levy forced into combat I'd agree but these sorts dont deserve it and neither would anyone actually agree with Arstan should he try and do that. I mean I get the whole 'Respect your Enemy' thing but only when it's a enemy that deserves such treatment.
 
The Titan's Strength By Silveraith
The Titan's Strength:

(Tormo's POV)

"We're spending a lot of time on boats Ser." For half an instant your brows furrowed and from the outside it probably looked like a complicated blink. He turned his head to look at Phrank who tried to appear innocent, a big smile on his face with lots of teeth, as if he knew his statement stupid. "Sorry."

"Don't worry, you're nervous and the tension on this boat could be cut with a sword." And indeed it could. Over a dozen men cramped together on a ship headed right for the enemy harbour. They could see them, only a blind man couldn't, the archers would be firing at any moment. His grip tightened on his shield.

"Don't worry boy, you'll get bloody today." Bryen said, punching Phrank's shoulder with a smile. The latter's smile turned grim. "And if you're going to get killed try not to shit yourself." He laughed as the boys face looked even worse.

"Stay close to me Phrank when the battle starts, this goes for all of you. If we get separated it's easier to get surrounded and killed." The young squire nodded, the weight of the unfolding events settling in.

"Shields!" Even from a distance he could hear the order from Ser Gerold. He repeated the command to the men on his ship as all of the other boat did the same, carrying the order down the line. As he raised his shield and the boat neared the piers he could hear and feel the soft impacts of arrows.

As soon as it was safe, to where you wouldn't sink and drown in your armour you jumped from the boat with a yell. "Come on you fucks!" You're voice loud and strong. "Come and kill us!"

You charged, legs moving swiftly. From there the battle seemed to move from one moment to the next, flashes before your eyes. One moment you were blocking and parrying an attack from a gutless pirate that you proceeded to make gutless to beheading an unthinking bandit.

"Ser Tormo!"

The call from Phrank made you hesitate for an instant and almost cost you your life before you quickly riposte and killed a man. When no one else charged you, you turned to look for Phrank, seeing him kneeling over the body of a man. If took two breathes for you to recognize Petyr, there was so much blood, so much dirt and grime on him. He died, beyond the aid of mortal men. He'd been one of your men-at-arms since you could walk. He'd taught you talk to girls and swim in the narrow sea. In your chest it hurt but there was nothing more you could do.

"Get up Phrank." You're voice was dead.

"But-"

"Get up!" You didn't mean to shout but it was the slight crack in emotions. "We're in battle, there's nothing more we can do."

He hesitated but obeyed. You turned away and reassessed the field. Your section of the battle was struggling, of course they were, for they were nothing but smallfolk. In the corner of your eye you saw something. Lord Arstan. He stood there, at least fifty meters from you but the indecision on his face was clearly visible. His head would occasionally turn between looking at the struggling smallfolk, his people, and the walking death that was the Kingsguard.

"Gods, he's a monster. Chosen by the Warrior and the Stranger." You heard Bryen say.

No kidding. In that instant you saw the young lordling make up his mind and run towards the reaper, probably thought it was safer.

You took a breath before turning to the smallfolk. "To me, to me!" You yelled to the smallfolk trying to rally them into a coherent force. With surprising fluidity they followed your command, the limited training they received before this kicking in as they sought to save their lives. As they moved you charged into the fray. "If any of you run, I'll kill you myself and rape your corpse!" That seemed to get the message across and like a hammer you got the men to press the pirates up against the outer wall of the harbour. With nowhere to run they were cut down like wheat.

The battle seemed to have taken forever but when it was over the weight of everything came crashing down on you. Most of the men had gathered together into the hall of the harbour, looking at the wounded, drinking, pillaging the dead, or what have you. The death of Petyr still hurt, you'd have to tell his family. As a Landed Knight and a decent person it was your duty; honour be damned. Honour wouldn't keep you warm or comfort your loved ones. Duty would keep you alive and keep the favour of those above you, just do it right and honour would follow.

Your head turned as someone cleared their throat. He turned, as did both Bryen, Phrank, and the remainder of your men. Standing before was a man who was tall and lean with auburn hair. He wore heavy grey plate and carried the presence of power and command. "I heard that you're the man who rallied the men at the harbour."

You stood. "I am. Ser Tormo Bealish of the Fingers."

"Ser Brynden Tully of Riverrun. I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done, you saved a lot of lives." He extended his hand, to which you took it. Shaking his hand, his grip was strong.

"Just doing my duty Ser, just doing my duty."



A/N: The opportunity presented itself.
 
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The Titan's Strength:

(Tormo's POV)

"We're spending a lot of time on boats Ser." For half an instant your brows furrowed and from the outside it probably looked like a complicated blink. He turned his head to look at Phrank who tried to appear innocent, a big smile on his face with lots of teeth, as if he knew his statement stupid. "Sorry."

"Don't worry, you're nervous and the tension on this boat could be cut with a sword." And indeed it could. Over a dozen men cramped together on a ship headed right for the enemy harbour. They could see them, only a blind man couldn't, the archers would be firing at any moment. His grip tightened on his shield.

"Don't worry boy, you'll get bloody today." Bryen said, punching Phrank's shoulder with a smile. The latter's smile turned grim. "And if you're going to get killed try not to shit yourself." He laughed as the boys face looked even worse.

"Stay close to me Phrank when the battle starts, this goes for all of you. If we get separated it's easier to get surrounded and killed." The young squire nodded, the weight of the unfolding events settling in.

"Shields!" Even from a distance he could hear the order from Ser Gerold. He repeated the command to the men on his ship as all of the other boat did the same, carrying the order down the line. As he raised his shield and the boat neared the piers he could hear and feel the soft impacts of arrows.

As soon as it was safe, to where you wouldn't sink and drown in your armour you jumped from the boat with a yell. "Come on you fucks!" You're voice loud and strong. "Come and kill us!"

You charged, legs moving swiftly. From there the battle seemed to move from one moment to the next, flashes before your eyes. One moment you were blocking and parrying an attack from a gutless pirate that you proceeded to make gutless to beheading an unthinking bandit.

"Ser Tormo!"

The call from Phrank made you hesitate for an instant and almost cost you your life before you quickly riposte and killed a man. When no one else charged you, you turned to look for Phrank, seeing him kneeling over the body of a man. If took two breathes for you to recognize Petyr, there was so much blood, so much dirt and grime on him. He died, beyond the aid of mortal men. He'd been one of your men-at-arms since you could walk. He'd taught you talk to girls and swim in the narrow sea. In your chest it hurt but there was nothing more you could do.

"Get up Phrank." You're voice was dead.

"But-"

"Get up!" You didn't mean to shout but it was the slight crack in emotions. "We're in battle, there's nothing more we can do."

He hesitated but obeyed. You turned away and reassessed the field. Your section of the battle was struggling, of course they were, for they were nothing but smallfolk. In the corner of your eye you saw something. Lord Arstan. He stood there, at least fifty meters from you but the indecision on his face was clearly visible. His head would occasionally turn between looking at the struggling smallfolk, his people, and the walking death that was the Kingsguard.

"Gods, he's a monster. Chosen by the Warrior and the Stranger." You heard Bryen say.

No kidding. In that instant you saw the young lordling make up his mind and run towards the reaper, probably thought it was safer.

You took a breath before turning to the smallfolk. "To me, to me!" You yelled to the smallfolk trying to rally them into a coherent force. With surprising fluidity they followed your command, the limited training they received before this kicking in as they sought to save their lives. As they moved you charged into the fray. "If any of you run, I'll kill you myself and rape your corpse!" That seemed to get the message across and like a hammer you got the men to press the pirates up against the outer wall of the harbour. With nowhere to run they were cut down like wheat.

The battle seemed to have taken forever but when it was over the weight of everything came crashing down on you. Most of the men had gathered together into the hall of the harbour, looking at the wounded, drinking, pillaging the dead, or what have you. The death of Petyr still hurt, you'd have to tell his family. As a Landed Knight and a decent person it was your duty; honour be damned. Honour wouldn't keep you warm or comfort your loved ones. Duty would keep you alive and keep the favour of those above you, just do it right and honour would follow.

Your head turned as someone cleared their throat. He turned, as did both Bryen, Phrank, and the remainder of your men. Standing before was a man who was tall and lean with auburn hair. He wore heavy grey plate and carried the presence of power and command. "I heard that you're the man who rallied the men at the harbour."

You stood. "I am. Ser Tormo Bealish of the Fingers."

"Ser Brynden Tully of Riverrun. I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done, you saved a lot of lives." He extended his hand, to which you took it. Shaking his hand, his grip was strong.

"Just doing my duty Ser, just doing my duty."



A/N: The opportunity presented itself.
Consider this canon! +10 to the rolls next turn.
 
Consider this canon! +10 to the rolls next turn.
All of this can be laid to the feet of us deciding to follow Ser Gerold, the need for a reason for this guy to be promoted to a noble rank, and for a relationship with House Tully to start somewhere.

Oh and the post isn't threadmarked.
 
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Inserted tally
Adhoc vote count started by Silveraith on Oct 23, 2019 at 5:37 PM, finished with 48 posts and 26 votes.

  • [X] plan: Magic and prophecy
    [X]Plan: No moratorium?
    -[X]Stay at the Harbor: Lord Ormund told you to rest, so rest you shall.
    -[X]Train with Ser Gerold: The Lord Commander is impressed by your actions in the battle. He thinks you have proved yourself ably as his squire in the battle.
    -[X]Hunt for The Brotherhood: You want to find the man who poisoned your mother and all the men he serves! You want their heads!
    [X]Plan: resting by resting.
    -[X]Stay at the Harbor: Lord Ormund told you to rest, so rest you shall.
    -[X]Train with Ser Gerold: The Lord Commander is impressed by your actions in the battle. He thinks you have proved yourself ably as his squire in the battle.
    -[X]Rest: You are going to rest. And sleep soundly in a comfortable bed.
    [X]Plan: resting by not resting.
    -[X]Stay at the Harbor: Lord Ormund told you to rest, so rest you shall.
    -[X]Train with Ser Gerold: The Lord Commander is impressed by your actions in the battle. He thinks you have proved yourself ably as his squire in the battle.
    -[X]Hunt for The Brotherhood: You want to find the man who poisoned your mother and all the men he serves! You want their heads!
    [X]Stay at the Harbor: Lord Ormund told you to rest, so rest you shall.
    -[X]Calm Winds and Pale Skies: You sit on the docks and breath, and hear the falcons cry.
    -[X]Dream: You dream a dream, of flying, of fighting… of holding your father in your arms as he lay dying.
    [X]Plan: actually resting
    -[X]Stay at the Harbor: Lord Ormund told you to rest, so rest you shall.
    -[X]Rest: You are going to rest. And sleep soundly in a comfortable bed.
    -[X]Spend time with Uncle Yohn: You always wanted to hear the stories about the rune blade and rune armor that his family claim to craft.
    [X] Plan: Rune-Smith and Dreams.
    -[X]Stay at the Harbor: Lord Ormund told you to rest, so rest you shall.
    -[X]Spend time with Uncle Yohn: You always wanted to hear the stories about the rune blade and rune armor that his family claim to craft.
    -[X]Dream: You dream a dream, of flying, of fighting… of holding your father in your arms as he lay dying.
    [X]Plan: No moratorium?
    -[X]Stay at the Harbor: Lord Ormund told you to rest, so rest you shall.
    --[X]Train with Ser Gerold: The Lord Commander is impressed by your actions in the battle. He thinks you have proved yourself ably as his squire in the battle.
    --[X]Hunt for The Brotherhood: You want to find the man who poisoned your mother and all the men he serves! You want their heads!
 
You have the Titan's Gaze (Apocrypha) in a different section then the Titan's Strength (Side Story).
eh, I only put that one in Pocrypha because it wasn't an event that Arstan was anywhere near.

This one, he had a near-direct impact in...

Also, I'm too lazy to move it, so it's there.
 
calling the vote in a few hours, don't know when but I need to finish a few essay's.
 
calling the vote: Plan magic and prophecy wins.
 
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